


Glitch in the System: Carjacked

by SystemGlitch



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Driving, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 02:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SystemGlitch/pseuds/SystemGlitch
Summary: By E.Widowmaker learns you can't troll the master.Mischief happens.





	Glitch in the System: Carjacked

Sombra’s door inched open, pushed by a slender blue finger as Widowmaker invited herself in. She’d begun leaving the door unlocked - something she found deeply disconcerting - but Widowmaker was coming by more regularly to visit with Toulouse, so she figured she’d do what she could to encourage it. She liked watching the sniper find comfort in small, gentle things. It seemed to help her sort out the emotions she was never able to understand.

“Hey,” she said, laying on her stomach on her bed, idly flipping through pages of the internet. She looked over and smiled at the trepidation on Widowmaker’s face as she warmed up the nerve to ask something that made her uncomfortable.

“Are you busy?” Widowmaker asked, standing in the doorway, watching her. Toulouse emerged purring from under the bed and began winding his way between her legs. He was getting bigger - you could see it in his face and tail. Widowmaker leaned over to pet him.

“No. I’m just trolling some competitors,” she said, waving away the computer and turning over on her side to regard the sniper. “A whole cadre of hackers convinced they could get the drop on me now have their IPs logged by local law enforcement linking them to shit they never did in the first place.”

Widowmaker stood up and tilted her head. “And who did this shit?” she asked deliberately, emphasizing  _shit_  in a way that Sombra knew was meant to mock her own liberal use of the word.

“Me, of course,  _araña_ ,” she grinned, tapping the side of her head. “Remember, in the wide world of espionage, I’m  _always_  behind you.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Widowmaker said, lips shifting into the slightest smile. It was enough to send a flush creeping up Sombra’s cheeks, and she quickly rolled off the bed and went to investigate something on her dresser until the sensation passed.

“Did you need something?” she asked, still idly arranging the pile of dirty clothing on the top of the bureau. It didn’t need arranging - it needed cleaning, but she  _hated_  doing laundry.

“I wanted to go out.” Widowmaker paused, shifting. “With you.” She paused again. “Somewhere.”

“Voluntarily?” She feigned shock. “With  _me_?” Placing a hand on her heart, she swooned.

“You have invited me out now,” she cast her eyes upward and began ticking her fingers off one by one as she counted, “seven times within a week,” Widowmaker replied, dropping her hands to her hips. “I figured I would, perhaps, engage in some variation on the theme.”

“You know I’m always up for a good time,” Sombra grinned, assenting far more easily than the spider ever had. Widowmaker pursed her lips and turned on her heel, gesturing for Sombra to follow. The hacker caught Toulouse before he could escape into the hall, setting him on the bed and following Widowmaker down the stairs.

* * *

“We have to drive?” Sombra asked as they lingered by the carport, eyeing the old sedan suspiciously. She’d avoided un-chauffered vehicles since their near-fateful trip to the grocery, but it looked as though Widow had no intention of outsourcing their travel this time.

“It is not a walkable distance,” Widowmaker replied, holding open the passenger side door for Sombra. The hacker wouldn’t budge.

“I can still taste chicken feathers from the last time you drove us somewhere, Widow,” Sombra replied, torn between wanting desperately to know where Widowmaker was taking her and her desire to stay alive for another day. Curiosity killed the cat, indeed.

“You would prefer to drive?” she asked, manicured eyebrow raised in a perfect arc of blistering disdain.

Sombra locked eyes with her for a long time, feeling her gaze grow closer and closer to a glare. “I can’t drive,” she admitted grudgingly. “Never really a relevant skill in my line of work.”

Widowmaker regarded her carefully, something dancing behind her eyes that Sombra couldn’t quite place. “I could teach you?” she said, smiling with an innocence Sombra knew she didn’t possess.

“Maybe we could just watch more TV or something,” she grumbled, loathe to admit that driving was something she’d likely benefit from learning.

“Nonsense,  _cherie_  - you’ll be a quick study. Come,” she gestured, hopping into the passenger seat herself. “You have conquered taller mountains than this. Let’s go.”

“ _No manches_ ,” Sombra sighed, unwilling to back down from a challenge, and walked around the car to get behind the wheel.

“Don’t forget to buckle your seat belt,” Widowmaker insisted.

“I’m not twelve, Widow,” Sombra said, reticently snapping the notched metal into the hook at the side of her seat. She placed her hands on the wheel.

“10 and 2!” Widowmaker informed her.

“What does that even mean?”

“Like a clock. Analog.”

“Oh hell.” She shifted her hands accordingly. “Like this?”

“ _Magnifique_. Now place your foot on the break.”

Sombra wiggled her foot around underneath the car, feeling for the pedal. “Wait,” she said, screwing her face up in confusion. “Why are there three pedals?”

“It is a manual. One is the clutch,” Widowmaker replied, as though this news were a matter of simple oversight on Sombra’s part. “Simply put, it makes the car go.”

“ _Dios_ , Lacroix,” she groaned. “Just tell me what to do.”

Widowmaker offered her the sweetest, most demure smile and told her what to do.

They cruised for a short time down a relatively quiet Venetian street, Sombra’s lack of finesse readily apparent to any passing motorists and pedestrians. She stalled the thrusters more times than she could count, and on at least two occasions earned laughter from people pausing in their afternoon commute to marvel at the struggling hacker and her lovely blue companion.

“This is the worst date ever,” she complained.

“I am having fun,” Widowmaker replied, gently patting Sombra’s hand resting tightly on the stick.

After fifteen minutes of torment and oh so subtle jabs at her lack of driving skill, Sombra looked over at Widowmaker. The spider was watching her with a curious intensity, the likes of which Sombra was familiar with, but seemed foreign on Widowmaker’s face. It took her a moment; a slow, painful dawning that in retrospect was probably naive on her part.

Widowmaker’s mouth quirked into the smallest, almost imperceptible shadow of a smirk, and Sombra nearly lost control of the vehicle as its origin became clear.

Was that.

Fucking.

_Mischief?_

_Oh, Lacroix. You don’t troll the master_ , she thought to herself, and as covertly as she could, weaseled her left hand down beneath the wheel. Activating her cybernetics, she sought out the car’s computer, winding digital circuits into the brain of the vehicle so that she could operate it remotely. In hindsight, she probably should have done this sooner, as it was much easier to control this way.

“Well,  _bomboncita_ , looks like this is too tough for me. I’m going to take a nap.” Letting go of the wheel, she clambered over the back of the chair and into the back seat, sprawling and yawning.

“Sombra?!” Widowmaker exclaimed, and Sombra delighted in the shock on her face. “You cannot just leave the driver’s seat!” Struggling with her seatbelt, she finally fumbled it loose and threw herself into the seat Sombra had vacated only to find the wheel unresponsive to her touch.

“What is going on?” she asked, settled awkwardly into the seat, hands out helplessly as the car easily navigated the busy street without any interference on her part. Looking over her shoulder, she met Sombra’s self-satisfied grin and immediately regained her disgruntled composure.

_“Did you hack the car?!”_

“ _Si_ ,” she laughed, easily avoiding a pothole and a pedestrian. “Are you nervous?”

“ _Oui_.”

Sombra smiled. “Payback sure is sweet, isn’t it?”

“You are resourceful, little spy,” Widowmaker said with reluctance. “I must admit I am impressed,” she said, staring ahead, aghast as Sombra paused at a crosswalk to let a mother and child pass.

“You won’t find any better back seat driving, I promise you that.”

Widowmaker sat stoically and uselessly in the front seat as the little girl turned and waved at her. She raised one reluctant hand and offered a sneering smile back.

“Come back here with me. It’s more comfortable and we can freak out some pedestrians.” Sombra shifted over a bit, pulling the car out through a four-way intersection and turning right. “Help me navigate to this mysterious place you’re taking me.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless this is it?”

Widowmaker scowled in frustration, watching Sombra turn two more corners before her worries about them dying faded. Pulling herself with surprising grace into the back seat, she joined the hacker in the cramped but comfortable leather seats, placing them at an exceptionally intimate distance from one another.

Sombra shifted so that her head was resting in Widowmaker’s lap and the console she was using to drive was viewable to them both. “So,  _araña_  - where to?”


End file.
